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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966191">Our Bodies Made of Stardust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra'>Avery_Kedavra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Broken Bones, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Gen, Human AU, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), I don't know, Injury, Insecure Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Insecure Logic | Logan Sanders, Kid Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Kid Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Kid Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Kid Deceit Sanders, Kid Logic | Logan Sanders, Kid Morality | Patton Sanders, Kid Sides (Sanders Sides), Logan Loves Stars, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, Logic | Logan Sanders Needs a Hug, Logic | Logan Sanders-centric, Logince - Freeform, Maybe - Freeform, Murder and death mentions, Platonic Anxiety | Virgil &amp; Creativity | Roman &amp; Logic | Logan &amp; Morality | Patton (Sanders Sides), Platonic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Logic | Logan Sanders, Remus and Deceit are here, Science, Stars, They start as kids but become teens and young adults throughout the fic, Time Skips, Young Sides (Sanders Sides), debatably platonic, falling, like really loves them, not focused on but they're here and sympathetic, so many stars, spoilers for the new episode, to be on the safe side, universe - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:35:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em>One of the most poetic facts I know about the universe is that essentially every atom in your body was once inside a star that exploded. Moreover, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than did those in your right hand. We are all, literally, star children, and our bodies made of stardust.</em> -Laurence M. Krauss</p><p>When Logan was six, he broke his arm trying to touch the stars.</p><p>When Logan was eighteen, he finally did.</p><p>This is the story of the time in between.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Our Bodies Made of Stardust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, this fic has been an adventure! I decided to write it longhand, so I had to transcribe it from my notebook to my computer, which added a few extra days of work after the actual writing. I think I used up every possible adjective to describe stars, and what started as platonic Logince started skewing more romantic, so now it's...debatably? Platonic? I really don't know anymore. This isn't my usual style of fic and I'm not completely happy with it, especially due to the complete inconsistency of the part lengths, but I'm glad I got to branch out and try something new. (I also don't like the title or description, but I never like my titles or descriptions, so that's nothing new.)</p><p>This fic was written for @sleepless-in-starbuck's A Meter of Space challenge! Check them out, they're wonderful! As always, my Tumblr is @averykedavra, and, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan broke his arm when he was six years old. He’d just received his first globe, discovered the joys of subtraction, and firmly believed that Santa Claus was real but just sent all the presents through the mail instead of by reindeer. Reindeers couldn’t fly, everyone knew that. They didn’t have wings or rockets or anything. And Santa wouldn’t want to travel in a sleigh all night, either. It would get cold! He should use a car like Logan’s family, or maybe a bicycle.</p><p>Logan had seen a movie where a bicycle flew. He tried to make his own bicycle fly but it only fell over and broke on the end. He probably had the wrong kind. When he asked his parents for a flying bicycle, they did the little laugh-look at each other and didn’t give him one.</p><p>The laugh-look came when Logan asked why countries existed or why dogs didn’t have to attend school or why the color orange was orange but the color purple wasn’t grape. It was a glance between his mom and dad, usually accompanied by stifled chuckles or a “You’ll understand when you’re older.” Logan quickly tired of the laugh-look, so he learned to keep his questions to himself.</p><p>He wrote them down in a notebook with a cartoon dog on the front. It used to be Patton’s, but Patton let him have it when he asked. Patton didn’t have questions like Logan did. Logan had almost a hundred questions in the notebook. He’d counted one afternoon. Counting was one of his favorite things to do.</p><p>Once he wrote a question, he would let it sit for a while and see if anyone would write the answer. If no one did, and no one usually did, he would try to answer the question himself. This involved lots of humming, tilting the notebook around to see the question from different angles, and occasionally, an experiment.</p><p>Most questions didn’t merit experiments. Logan figured them out on their own or they turned out boring. Only a few questions bothered him so much that he decided to answer them by any means necessary.</p><p>On this particular night, he wanted to know if he could touch the stars.</p><p>Logan knew stars came out at night. He knew they twinkled. He didn’t know what twinkling was, but it was in the song, so it must be true.</p><p>His mom showed him the stars once, after a long boring party full of big cotton-covered people that smelled like old cheese. He was exhausted when they arrived home. It was way past bedtime. But he remembered his mom holding him up as they walked to the house and tilting his head to the sky.</p><p>“Look,” she’d said. “The stars are out.”</p><p>There had to be at least five. No, ten. Everywhere Logan looked, he saw more. They covered the sky like splashes of paint or Patton’s freckles or holes in a piece of paper. They felt very far away and close enough to touch.</p><p>He’d reached out his fingers to see if he <em>could</em> touch them, could feel them between his fingers and understand what they really were. Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are. But his fingers only met crisp, starless air.</p><p>He needed to go higher.</p><p>That’s what Logan figured out one day in the middle of kindergarten class. If he wanted to touch the stars, he needed to climb up to the sky and reach them.</p><p>The highest thing around was the big tree in Logan’s backyard. It had a lot of branches and a large trunk and a little treehouse his dad made especially for him. Logan kept lots of books in there. He spent many afternoons curled up in his favorite onesie, reading.</p><p>Logan could easily climb to the treehouse and see if he could touch some stars. He wasn’t allowed to be outside at night, but it was okay because this was an experiment. Experiments were learning, and learning was important. Logan’s kindergarten teacher said he should always be learning. He liked his parents, but his teacher was smart and wore big dangly glasses and sometimes gave them jam tarts. So he decided to follow her rules instead.</p><p>It was really late when he snuck out. His mom and dad were watching grownup stuff on TV so he walked out the back door. The backyard was dark like someone put sunglasses over the world. Logan touched his face to make sure <em>he</em> hadn’t put on sunglasses accidentally. He was, thankfully, sunglasses-free. Taking very careful steps so he wouldn’t kick a rock or a night animal, Logan shuffled across the grass to the tree.</p><p>He couldn’t see the ladder very much, so it took him a few tries to grab it. The rope dug into his hands as he scaled the trunk and pulled himself through the hole in the treehouse floor. He had left a flashlight in the treehouse just in case, but it could scare the stars away. They might think it was the sun and leave early. In the dark, Logan scooted to the treehouse window and leaned outside.</p><p>He was so high up. The usual view of his house and the driveway and the neighbors’ pool was covered in black. Some houses down the road had their lights on. He tried to pick out Patton’s house, but all he could see were little window squares floating in the air.</p><p>Logan looked up and saw the stars.</p><p>They were even better up here—spattered and splattered and straight from Logan’s books. Big ones, small ones, close together and far apart.</p><p>Carefully, so he wouldn’t frighten them, Logan reached a hand as high as he could.</p><p>His fingers met nothing.</p><p>He stretched further. He leaned out on his tippy-toes and tried to scrape the sky. Nothing sparked. Nothing became solid and heavy in his hand. The stars remained resolutely out of reach.</p><p>Logan could have decided they didn’t want him to touch them. He could have climbed back down the tree and went back to bed and gone to sleep. But he wasn’t tired at all! And he wanted to touch them. He wanted to climb into the middle of the stars and let them swim around him like a river. He wanted to have them on every side, flipping like fish, drifting like bubbles, fizzing like fireworks, breathless and weightless and perfect.</p><p>He could climb just a little higher.</p><p>The window ledge was firm beneath Logan’s feet. He pulled himself upright and shuffled along, holding tight to the treehouse roof. He placed a sneaker on a nearby branch and began to climb.</p><p>Logan’s eyes were on the stars, shining behind the branches, just out of reach.</p><p>His eyes should have been on his feet.</p><p>Or perhaps the ground, more than twenty feet away.</p><p>The roof slipped from his fingers. His sneakers lost their grip. And Logan woke up on the ground.</p><p>His arm burned. His eyes were filled with tears he didn’t remember crying. It <em>hurt.</em> Did he touch a star after all? Did it bite him, burn him, hurt him? That wasn’t very nice. It hurt so much. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. He didn’t think he had a body anymore. Why did everything hurt?</p><p>Someone was yelling. Was it Logan? No, it was his parents, who were running outside. They were checking him over, bundling him up, he was crying and couldn’t stop, he couldn’t remember why he was crying, he couldn’t remember where he was or why it hurt so much, his arm was on <em>fire</em>, why wouldn’t they make it stop—</p><p>Logan got a blue cast on his arm, after his parents drove him to the hospital in the backseat of their car. It felt heavy and chalky. He didn’t like it, especially when he learned it was his good arm. He couldn’t write any more questions until it stopped burning. Logan cried again when he heard that.</p><p>“You can get your friends to write their names on it,” his dad suggested. But he only had Patton.</p><p>On the way home, his parents asked over and over why he did that. Logan didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t explain the lure of the stars that still sparkled outside the car window as they drove down empty streets. He was tired and sore and wanted to go home and sleep.</p><p>His last thought was wondering whether he did really touch a star. He didn’t remember falling…maybe…</p><p>Logan wished he could remember what the star felt like.</p><p>The car rounded a bend, and Logan was fast asleep, cheek pressed to the window. The stars lit his way home, and for that night and many afterwards, they filled his dreams.</p><p>----o----</p><p>Logan was eleven years old when he made his second real friend.</p><p>He didn’t mean for it to happen. In fact, it was the last thing on his mind. The only thing he cared about was that he couldn’t go stargazing.</p><p>This was the clearest night all week. He’d checked the weather maps and confirmed the overcast skies of the past weeks would finally disappear. He could spend the night in the backyard, stargazing.</p><p>But of <em>course</em> Patton invited him to a sleepover that night, and Logan couldn’t say no because Patton seemed so excited about the idea. He gushed about it for days. It didn’t even sound that bad. Patton promised to have lots of jam tarts and popcorn and a few terrible movies Logan could make fun of. Roman was coming too, and Logan didn’t like him much, but Janus was coming too and Janus was at least interesting to talk to. He did swear a lot, though.</p><p>Still. Stars.</p><p>Eventually, Logan devised a plan. He knew Patton’s house like his own. Once everyone was asleep, he could sneak out and catch a glimpse of the stars.</p><p>The flaw in that plan was that Patton and the others would <em>not</em> fall asleep.</p><p>Their conversation wasn’t even important—it was an extended debate about the merits of different Disney movies. By ten o’clock, Logan was irritated. By eleven, he was annoyed. By midnight, he was seriously considering suffocating the three of them to make them stop talking. Every time Logan thought the conversation had finally died, someone would ask “Who else is awake?” and the process would begin again. Honestly. Sleepovers weren’t called ‘talk-overs’, were they?</p><p>Finally, as the clock neared one, the living room fell silent. Patton snored softly in his blue puppy-patterned sleeping back. Janus snored less softly, splayed on a pile of sofa cushions. Roman was across the room from Logan. All he could see was a red lump and two socks.</p><p>Carefully, Logan shifted his blanket off and rolled to the edge of his air mattress. Every move caused a creaking, rushing noise as air left the mattress. Logan wished he hadn’t won the Rock Paper Scissors tournament for the mattress. Fortunately, nobody seemed to stir.</p><p>Putting on his glasses, Logan got to his feet and tiptoed down the hall. Patton’s moms were upstairs and all the lights were off, leaving the house a maze of dark hallways and sharp bends. But Logan remembered the route well. One window carefully opened, a few jumps and handholds, and Logan was balanced on the roof.</p><p>Patton showed him the way up maybe three years ago. Logan had never been a fan of high places and didn’t want to get hurt, but over time, he grew more confident. It was high up, sure, but the edge only sloped at a forty-five degree angle and friction kept him from slipping.</p><p>Logan sat on the side of the roof, placed his hands on the shingles, and leaned back so his weight fell on the roof behind him. His legs curled up to his chest.</p><p>The stars were beautiful. Barely a hint of blue was left in the sky, leaving only smoky darkness and the stars crossing it in familiar patterns. The moon hung in the east, a few wayward trees etched below it. Silhouettes of houses ringed the horizon, along with streetlights and headlights and city lights and nightlights. They were stronger than the stars by far, and if Logan made the mistake of glancing at them, he would have to wait for his eyes to adjust again. Still, it was fun watching stars fade back into view, one and two and more and more. The sky teemed with them, almost shivering, all the stars Logan could not quite make out shifting like mirages. A whole universe, beyond his eyes and his reach.</p><p>“Didn’t take you for the climbing type.”</p><p>Logan inhaled sharply. Balanced on the roof behind him, wearing red and white pajamas and a serious bedhead, was Roman.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Logan growled. He felt exposed, caught staring up at the sky in a Sherlock t-shirt and pajama pants.</p><p>“Followed you,” Roman said with a yawn. “Can I sit next to you?”</p><p>His eyes were curious, but Logan spotted no trace of judgement. Perhaps he was too sleepy to make fun. Logan shrugged. “I suppose, if you wish.”</p><p>Roman beamed and walked over. Two or three times he wobbled, waving his arms to maintain balance, and Logan wanted to reach out and steady him. He stopped himself. Roman was a jerk! A chowderhead! Someone who thought Star Wars was better than Star Trek! He was not to be trusted, even if he <em>did</em> look different in pajamas and messy hair and a strangely sincere smile.</p><p>Roman sat down next to Logan. There was a good amount of space between them, but Logan was used to an empty roof and an empty sky. The freedom of open air was different with someone next to him.</p><p>“Go on,” Roman said. “Don’t let me interrupt.”</p><p>If he didn’t want to interrupt, he wouldn’t have walked out here. Logan didn’t say that. Instead, he pointedly ignored Roman and stared at the sky again. The stars glimmered, magnificent celestial bodies of gas and fire, but Logan couldn’t focus. Roman was too close, too warm, too alive, blinding him to the stars even more than the streetlights.</p><p>He was humming, too. When You Wish Upon a Star. Very funny. Logan pressed his knees closer to his heart and tried to tune Roman out.</p><p>He’d almost managed when:</p><p>“Why did you sneak out?”</p><p>Logan sighed. Maybe if he ignored the question, Roman would leave him alone.</p><p>Roman did not take the hint. He kept staring at Logan, waiting for him to respond. Getting no answer, he began to prod.</p><p>“Specs? M.C. Escher? White and Nerdy? Rankenstein?”</p><p>“What?” Logan snapped.</p><p>“I’m just curious!” Roman said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s, like, really late, and you were the one complaining that we all needed to get to bed or we’d be super tired in the morning. So.”</p><p>Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, Roman. Please leave me alone.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Roman mumbled. “Like I said. I’m just curious.”</p><p>Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour, or the softness in Roman’s voice, or Logan’s understanding of being so curious you couldn’t help it.</p><p>But something made him sigh, adjust his glasses, and say “It is a clear night and I wanted to observe the stars.”</p><p>Roman didn’t laugh, just tilted his head and asked “Why?”</p><p>“I think you’ll find my statement is self-explanatory,” Logan said stiffly.</p><p>“No, why go through all this trouble?” Roman leaned forward, elbows on his knees. ”Can’t you see the stars another night?”</p><p>Logan thought through his words before speaking. “It hasn’t been this clear for a while,” he said. “Due to light pollution, I can’t usually see as many stars as I would like.” Logan leaned back and rested his head on the shingles. Lying there, all he could see were stars. He still felt Roman’s presence acutely, but it was a little easier to get lost.</p><p>“You love stars, huh?”</p><p>“Yes,” Logan admitted. “I find them…satisfactory.”</p><p>“Why?” Roman asked again.</p><p>Logan tried his best to glare at him. Roman seemed to get the message, because he immediately backtracked. “I mean, that’s cool! Stars are really neat. I’m just—I’m curious why you like them so much.”</p><p>The magic words again. “I’m curious.” Roman asked a question and Logan could provide an answer. Did Roman know the effect of that statement, or was he oblivious to it? Knowing Roman’s figurative track record with intelligence, Logan believed it was most likely the latter. Nevertheless, it worked.</p><p>“I don’t know exactly,” Logan began. “I’ve always found them fascinating, ever since I was young. They appear small in the night sky, but in reality they are many times the size of our planet. Some of them are billions of light-years away from us. Some are white dwarfs or red dwarfs, and sometimes they explode as supernovas and their remains form new stars out of the stardust. Sometimes they collapse into blackholes.”</p><p>Logan was getting excited now. He only talked about space with Patton, who was nice but didn’t really get it.</p><p>“…and the stars have planets circling them, and they form galaxies and supergalaxies and clusters. We don’t know how many stars are in the universe, because the universe is huge and always growing. They’re above everything, on an entirely different scale than us. Everything on Earth doesn’t matter to them. You could get lost in the universe and never find your way back. A star could suck you in and burn you up without noticing. Stars are massive and important and wonderful. But we only see them as tiny pinpricks on Earth.”</p><p>Logan swallowed. On any other night he would stop there, but sleep deprivation and the crispness of the night air in his lungs kept him going.</p><p>“I want to be an astronomer one day. Maybe even an astronaut. I want to travel up there until I’m surrounded by stars. I want to…I want to touch them. Swim in them. That’s illogical and impossible, but it’s what I want.” Logan bit his lip. “It’s foolish, I know. Stars are just balls of gas. I don’t know why I feel so strongly about them.”</p><p>Roman was silent for a few seconds.</p><p>“I think I get it,” he finally said. “It’s like how I feel about stories. I love telling them, writing them, reading them…it’s my passion. Stars are your passion. It makes sense.”</p><p>“Huh.” The beginning of a smile formed on Logan’s face. “Thank you, Roman.”</p><p>“No problem, Rocketman.”</p><p>Logan looked up at the stars again. Infinite, ever-changing, dancing around each other to a tune only they could hear.</p><p>Roman was humming again. See the Light from Tangled. Logan smiled wider.</p><p>“There are stories about stars,” Logan murmured. “Constellations, they’re called.”</p><p>Roman smiled. “Really?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Tell me one.” Roman shifted closer. “Please?”</p><p>Logan looked at Roman. The stars were reflected in his eyes. His smile was brighter than a supernova. He drowned out every star in the sky, because stars were cold and distant and Roman was right here.</p><p>Roman was a planet, Logan decided, revolving around the same Sun. Maybe his orbit <em>was</em> different than Logan’s, and maybe he was a little big and bright and full of hot air. But he was another person. Another planet. Another—another friend.</p><p>Maybe. Just maybe.</p><p>“There was hero,” Logan said, “and his name was Perseus…”</p><p>----o----</p><p>Logan was fourteen and spending his first two weeks away from home.</p><p>He’d never went to summer camps, preferring time to himself in the school-free months. He found himself loathe to part with his many books, his microscope, his charts of the Periodic Table, or even the obnoxiously high-pitched bird that woke him up every morning. It reminded of a friend Logan would not name whose name began with an R and ended with OMAN.</p><p>That was irrelevant.</p><p>The point of the matter was that home had always been safe. So every time Roman invited him to the yearly beach trip, Logan politely declined.</p><p>This year, however, he had just graduated middle school and hadn’t gotten into the science program he wanted for high school, and he’d discovered that boys were supposed to kiss girls now but he couldn’t really imagine wanting to kiss <em>anyone</em>, especially not girls, and his parents’ frequent “discussions” they had when they thought Logan couldn’t hear were getting louder and uglier.</p><p>When Roman extended the invitation again—a formality at this point, since he always refused—Logan surprised everyone, including himself, by saying “That sounds interesting. If you don’t mind, I will come with you.”</p><p>Nobody asked why he’d suddenly changed his mind about beach trips. Virgil did give Logan a look, but Logan knew Virgil wouldn’t tell. In fact, he hadn’t changed his mind at all. The ocean terrified him ever since he read an article about how much of the seafloor remained unexplored. As for sand, Logan’s opinions matched Anakin Skywalker’s. Sand was course, rough, irritating, and it got everywhere. But his parents were all those things <em>and</em> passive aggressive. It was a lesser of two evils.</p><p>Despite the location being the hellscape known as a beach, Logan found himself counting down the days. He packed his suitcase twice, making sure he had extra books to keep him entertained if his companions or the evil beach grew too tiresome. When the day finally arrived, he loaded his bags into Roman’s station wagon and they drove towards the shore.</p><p>It was simultaneously the best and worst vacation Logan had ever had.</p><p>Everything smelled like fish and salt. He got sand in unmentionable places. He broke his glasses playing ping-pong against Virgil and had to tape them up. Roman called him Harry Potter for a week after that. He also got a nasty sunburn, Janus was stung by a jellyfish, and Remus replaced every toothpaste in the hotel rooms with shaving cream. Patton ran after a stray dog, got lost, and ended up at an ice cream parlor. Sometimes Logan would be woken at six o’clock in the morning by the cawing of seagulls, the pounding of the surf, and Roman singing In the Heights at the top of his lungs.</p><p>But there was Patton. Virgil. Roman. Janus. Even Remus, in his own way. Patton made them pancakes every morning and lemonade every afternoon. Virgil cleaned the rooms and kept their beds made. Roman and Remus staged karaoke nights where even Logan ended up singing, although if confronted, he would deny it. Janus calmed Virgil down after he broke Patton’s phone case. They were strange, silly, and sometimes their edges grated on each other. But they fit like pieces of the same puzzle.</p><p>Logan was so lucky to have them.</p><p>He told them so, stretched on a rainbow towel, watching Roman and Remus build a sandcastle with five turrets and a moat. It was a lazy, sunbaked afternoon, and Logan was too languid to worry about sharing his feelings. It seemed to go over well, anyway. Virgil smirked fondly as only he could, Janus rolled his eyes, Remus jovially flipped Logan off, and Patton practically squealed.</p><p>“You’re cool too,” Roman called, sand on his nose. “And just remember you wouldn’t even know Virgil or Remus if it weren’t for me.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t know any of you if it weren’t for Patton,” Logan fired back.</p><p>“I deserve some of the credit.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Logan chucked a pile of sand at him and returned to reading ‘The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.’</p><p>Things were peaceful. Even the arguments, which Logan admitted he participated in a fair amount of, were playful and easily resolved and nothing like the fighting he heard at home.</p><p>On those nights, when the yelling shook the floorboards, he just looked at the stars and imagined flying far away from planet Earth on a comet. He could find a new planet and make a new city of just him and his friends. Every day could be like the beach vacation, minus all the sand and Roman’s poor overworked dad who’d given up shepherding them by day three.</p><p>But that was just a foolish dream, and it, like the vacation, couldn’t last forever.</p><p>Logan found the end of the trip growing steadily nearer. Everyone packed their suitcases, Remus and Janus had an argument over whose sock was whose, and Patton found a baseball cap that seemed to belong to none of them. It was left dangling from the hotel chandelier in the lobby.</p><p>The night before they left, Logan couldn’t sleep.</p><p>As far as he could tell, there wasn’t a concrete cause of his insomnia. Perhaps he simply didn’t want to wake up and have to go home.</p><p>After a few hours of tossing and turning, Logan crept out of bed to get a glass of milk from the refrigerator. Across the room, Virgil was still awake, but was staring at his phone and barely acknowledged Logan as he walked past.</p><p>Logan was sipping his milk, leaning against the counter, and contemplating the merits of diving into the sea and becoming a mermaid, when he heard footsteps.</p><p>Roman staggered through the doorway, rubbing his eyes and yawning. It took him a second to notice Logan.</p><p>“Oh! Hey!” Roman smiled, already looking more awake. “Lo! Couldn’t sleep?”</p><p>“No,” Logan agreed.</p><p>“Well, you wanna join me?” Roman slid on his shoes and pulled a red letterman’s jacket over his pajamas. His t-shirt read ‘Fairest of Them All’ and his pajama pants were hot pink. Together with the jacket, Roman’s tousled hair, and his neon sneakers with no socks, it was a very interesting look.</p><p>“I’m going for a walk on the beach,” Roman explained, taking Logan’s glass of milk from his hand and downing half of it. “I can’t sleep, so why not?”</p><p>Logan frowned. “If you can’t sleep, you shouldn’t be engaging in more activity. You should do something relaxing that requires little cognition, like—”</p><p>“But I wanna.” Roman pouted. “Whatever. It’s your loss anyway if you don’t wanna come. It’ll be awesome. And it’s our last chance to do it until next summer.”</p><p>“No.” Logan finished his milk and placed the glass on the counter. “You may do as you like, but I will not participate. Good night, Roman.”</p><p>Roman’s smile grew mischievous. “But the stars are really clear tonight.”</p><p>“That won’t work,” Logan said, but already he was picturing a clear sky over the ocean. He hadn’t stargazed since before the trip, it couldn’t hurt—</p><p>“C’mon,” Roman pleaded. “You know you want to.”</p><p>Logan held out for a second longer before sighing in defeat.</p><p>“Where’s my jacket?”</p><p>The stars were spectacular. This far from most buildings, the light pollution was less of an issue and more stars popped into view than Logan had ever seen. They covered the sky, filling every inch of it, so many that he couldn’t pick out his usual constellations. What he could see was a thicker band of stars in the middle. An arm of the Milky Way Galaxy.</p><p>The waves curled against the beach, pounding rhythmically and tossing white foam into the air. The bubbles glowed with dim phosphorescence. A few sandpipers skittered along the edge, dabbing into the skeins of shallow water that blossomed in the wake of the waves. Other than them, it was just Roman, Logan, the sand, the sea, and the sky.</p><p>Roman grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him towards the waves.</p><p>“My shoes will get wet,” Logan complained.</p><p>“So?”</p><p>Logan huffed but allowed himself to be dragged into the ocean. Waves lapped at his ankles, sand skidding and sinking under the influence of the tides. Roman stared out at the ocean. Logan stared up at the sky. Neither could find the spot where the two met—one became the other somewhere distant, far out to sea.</p><p>Roman sighed. “I don’t want to leave.”</p><p>“Me neither.”</p><p>The low glow of phosphorescence danced over Roman’s face. “Do you know why I couldn’t sleep?”</p><p>Logan watched him for a second. “No.”</p><p>“I just couldn’t stop thinking.”</p><p>Roman ran a hand through his hair. After another pause, Logan asked, “About what?”</p><p>“Life. Stuff. I don’t know.” Roman waved a hand at the water, as if the answer lay in the waves. “We’re going to high school soon.”</p><p>Logan suddenly realized this conversation was becoming About Emotions. Normally, he would back out or dial Patton. But he was standing in the ocean, a million stars surrounding him, more awake than he’d ever been.</p><p>“We are,” he agreed. “How do you feel about that?”</p><p>Roman bit his lip. After a few seconds, he burst out, “I’m scared.”</p><p>“Scared about what?”</p><p>“Everything. Nothing. I don’t know!” Roman sighed in exasperation. “I just…everything’s changing now. Virgil’s going to art school, Remus is trying an alternative school, I’ve been auditioning at theaters around town, and I don’t want us to drift apart, y’know? We’re…” Roman swallowed. “I don’t know what I’d be without you guys.”</p><p>“You would still be Roman,” Logan said. “Whether or not our friend group stays together—and I am inclined to believe it shall—you would still accomplish great things and continue to be yourself.”</p><p>Roman shrugged. “Would I, though?”</p><p>Logan shivered as a wave soaked his socks. “I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>“I’m not….” Roman’s face screwed up. “I’m not…like you guys.”</p><p>Logan kept his voice measured. “How so?”</p><p>“You’re all…wonderful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and I’m…”</p><p>“All those things and more.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Roman said unconvincingly.</p><p>Logan watched the waves fall, in and out, up and down.</p><p>“How else do you feel?” he asked.</p><p>“Like, right now?”</p><p>“About high school. About yourself.” Logan, after a moment of hesitation, reached out and touched Roman lightly on the back. “About everything.”</p><p>Roman laughed. “You sure you want to open <em>that</em> can of worms?”</p><p>Logan just nodded.</p><p>Roman took a deep breath and let it out.</p><p>“Sometimes,” Roman mumbled, “sometimes I just feel like I’m invisible. Like I’m helpless. Falling into a black hole with no way out. I’ve got a future I don’t understand, grades that are mediocre at best, and friends I’m terrified will leave me at a moment’s notice. I’m just—” Roman spread his hands out and tried to laugh. “Yeah. I guess. It’s—it’s kind of stupid.”</p><p>Logan shook his head. “It’s not stupid.”</p><p>Roman let out a breath.</p><p>This was not Logan’s area of expertise. He was not well-suited to comforting people like Patton or being quietly supportive like Virgil or even cutting to the heart of the matter like Janus. He did not know how to make Roman feel better.</p><p>So he started with what he knew.</p><p>“Black holes are created when a star collapses in on itself,” Logan began. “There are estimated to be at least several thousand, one in the center of our own galaxy. They are holes in spacetime itself. Nothing can escape their extreme gravitational pull. Certainly not a human.”</p><p>Roman chuckled softly. “That supposed to make me feel better, Specs?”</p><p>Logan swallowed. Maybe this was a mistake, but there was no going back. “Black holes have been photographed only once by humans. For a long time, their existence was only speculated at. Light is sucked into it and disappears. It is, to the human eye, invisible.”</p><p>Roman shifted under Logan’s hand.</p><p>“Although they are invisible, they are massively important.” Logan looked up at the stars once more. “Their gravitational fields keep galaxies together. They alter the paths of stars. They’re like glue that binds the universe together. They shape the form and layout of every portion of the sky. Without them…” Logan raised a hand to the sky. “The entire universe would fall apart.”</p><p>Roman’s eyes were wide and glassy.</p><p>“I…” Logan tugged at his sleeve, flushing. “I apologize, I am not good with these situations—”</p><p>“Logan,” Roman breathed. A smile grew on his face. “That was…you were perfect. That was perfect.” He placed a hand over Logan’s. “Thank you.”</p><p>Logan smiled back. “That is what friends do, correct? Help each other?”</p><p>Roman beamed. “Absolutely correct, you Iron Giant Nerd.”</p><p>“How dare you.”</p><p>“Insulting things is how I show my love.” Roman frowned slightly. “Hey, Specs?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Why did you never come on vacation with us before?” Roman shifted, glancing away. “I always thought you…didn’t like us or something. Didn’t like me.”</p><p>“Oh!” Logan shook his head. “No, I just don’t like sand.”</p><p>“You don’t like—”</p><p>“Sand.” Logan nodded. “It’s coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere.”</p><p>Roman, to Logan’s satisfaction, burst out laughing.</p><p>----o----</p><p>It was Logan’s sixteenth birthday. He was sitting on a slightly damp bench in the park, counting the cars that passed. Four minivans, seven pickup trucks, and three red cars—although one might have been brown, it was hard to tell in the dark. Logan spotted a “punch buggy” and instinctively winced, but Roman or Remus didn’t punch him. They couldn’t. They had no idea where he was.</p><p>Logan shivered, pulling his coat tighter around him. Winter’s approach already showed in the thinning foliage and crisper winds, and the sign advertising pumpkin spice lattes across the street. The café’s door was open and inviting, but Logan possessed no money for a drink and he doubted the owners would take kindly to a loiterer.</p><p>His phone vibrated for perhaps the fiftieth time that night. Logan pulled it out—there were a few new texts added to the unbroken wall from Patton and Roman. Virgil and Janus had sent far fewer messages, but the concern was palpable.</p><p>As Logan watched, several more texts slid onto the screen. They were looking for him, apparently. Of course they were. His brief text of “I’m fine” twenty minutes ago seemed not to have sufficed.</p><p>Logan sighed. He didn’t want to worry them. They were only confused and concerned, and although they could technically be blamed for the situation, Logan knew they had only acted out of the goodness of their hearts. A surprise party was a sweet idea. Virgil had loved his. It wasn’t their fault that Logan wasn’t in the mood.</p><p>However, every time Logan thought of returning to explain the situation, or even sending another text, his windpipe choked up and he had to take deep breaths and tap rhythms on the bench until he steadied.</p><p>It was a cold night, an ugly night, a dark and lonely night. It was the worst birthday Logan had ever had, and at his eighth birthday party someone threw up on the cake.</p><p>Logan put his phone away and rubbed his hands together. A shame he hadn’t thought to grab some gloves on the way out.</p><p>He was contemplating entering the café across the street—even if they kicked him out, a moment of warmth would be wonderful—when he heard his name.</p><p>At first, Logan thought he imagined it. It was a distant yell. But he heard it again and again. Someone was calling for him, and based off the increase in volume, they were getting closer.</p><p>As discreetly as possible, Logan glanced around to find the source.</p><p>“Logan!”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh, Newton, why did it have to be <em>him?</em></p><p>Roman was walking down the street, hands cupped around his mouth.</p><p>“Logan!”</p><p>Logan let loose several choice swear words. Could he hide in time? Movement would just alert Roman to his presence.</p><p>Before Logan could cover himself in leaves and pretend to be a misshapen, foulmouthed bush, Roman stopped walking.</p><p>Maybe he got something stuck in his shoe, Logan thought desperately. He couldn’t see in the dark to confirm whether Roman had actually seen him. Maybe he hadn’t.</p><p>“Logan?”</p><p>Logan deployed several more swear words.</p><p>“Hey!” Roman waved, running across the street. Logan opened his mouth to lecture him for jaywalking, but he couldn’t form the words. His hands tapped at the bench, not in a relaxing 4-7-8 rhythm but a scattered jazz percussion. He probably looked terrible. He had been crying, after all. Had he cried? He didn’t remember. The trip from Patton’s house to the park bench was a blur. Perhaps he had jaywalked just like Roman.</p><p>Roman was walking up to him now, looking absurdly relieved. Logan clenched his fists and took a few deep breaths. The bundle of nerves in his stomach didn’t settle.</p><p>“Lo?”</p><p>It took Logan two tries to speak. His voice was raspy. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Can I sit next to you?”</p><p>Logan shrugged, staring at his knees. In the corner of his eye he saw Roman sit down, keeping several inches between them. Logan appreciated that.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Roman asked. His voice was quiet, like Logan was a rabbit he was afraid to frighten. Logan did not appreciate that. “Are you hurt? Cold?”</p><p>“I’m not hurt,” Logan said. “I am a little cold.”</p><p>If Roman noticed Logan’s dodging of the first question, he didn’t comment.</p><p>“Can I touch you?” he asked instead.</p><p>Logan thought about it and shook his head.</p><p>“Okay. That’s okay. Thanks for telling me.” Roman took out his phone. “I’m going to tell Patton I found you—”</p><p>“Don’t,” Logan croaked, hating how upset he sounded. “Don’t call Patton.”</p><p>“Lo…” Roman looked confused, but the softness didn’t go away. “He’s really worried. We all are. Pat and Virge are at Pat’s house, and Jan and Rem are looking around the city. I need to tell them you’re okay.”</p><p>“I know.” Logan shook his head. “Just…a few minutes. Please?”</p><p>Roman watched him and slowly put his phone away.</p><p>“Thank you,” Logan whispered.</p><p>“No problem, Specs.” Roman leaned back on the bench, tucking his hands behind his head, staring at the iron-dark clouds. “You wanna talk about it?”</p><p>Logan rubbed at his jeans. “Not really, no.”</p><p>“Fair,” Roman agreed. “Do you want me to talk?”</p><p>“Do what you like.”</p><p>“Cool.” Roman nodded. “Cool. Um…did you know that wombats poop squares?”</p><p>Logan couldn’t help but give him an incredulous look.</p><p>“Sorry. Remus is rubbing off on me.” Roman sighed, eyes still trained on the sky. “Hey, there’s a star out.”</p><p>Out of habit, Logan looked up. “N-no there isn’t.”</p><p>“Look.” Roman pointed at a spot on the horizon. “Star.”</p><p>“Th-that’s a planet.” Logan swallowed. His voice was already growing stronger. “Venus, I think.”</p><p>“Oh.” Roman’s face fell.</p><p>“There won’t be any stars tonight,” Logan mumbled. “It’s too cloudy. Sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t apologize, you don’t control the weather. And I bet there’s at least one!” Roman scanned the sky and pointed. “There!”</p><p>Logan looked. “Roman, that’s moving.”</p><p>“So…?”</p><p>“It’s a satellite.”</p><p>“Hmph.” Roman pouted. “What about that?”</p><p>“Airplane.”</p><p>“That?”</p><p>“Another airplane.”</p><p>“That?”</p><p>Logan squinted. “That is a patch of empty sky. I do not see what you see.”</p><p>Roman squealed loudly. “There! I found one!”</p><p>Logan peered between the clouds. A small pinpoint of light greeted him. It didn’t move, blink, or fade away.</p><p>“Fine.” Logan rolled his eyes. “There is one star.”</p><p>“There sure is!” Roman clapped his hands. “Now we make a wish, right?”</p><p>“Wishing on a star is a preposterous and pointless venture,” Logan snapped. “You cannot affect the course of events by simply ‘wishing.’ Anyway, it would be more logical to wish on a multitude of stars instead of the presence of a singular star, since the former is more rare. This is just…” Logan waved a hand. “A stupid empty sky.”</p><p>Roman didn’t respond. Logan folded his arms and returned to staring a figurative hole in his jeans.</p><p>“But they’re still there, right?”</p><p>Logan blinked. “What?”</p><p>“The stars.” Roman’s tongue poked out of his mouth, like it always did when he was concentrating. “You told me that. The stars are there no matter if we see them or not. They’re omnipresent. Behind those clouds is the whole flipping universe. Right?”</p><p>Logan nodded slowly.</p><p>“So the sky isn’t empty!” Roman smiled triumphantly. “And when you see one star, you know there are trillions out of sight. They’re never gone, just out of reach.”</p><p>Logan chuckled softly. “Mary Poppins Returns?”</p><p>“I changed a few words! And it’s a good sentiment!”</p><p>Logan huffed and rolled his eyes. “Prep.”</p><p>“Nerd.”</p><p>The smile on Logan’s face quickly faltered. Roman had made him laugh, yes. But the sick, seething mass in his stomach refused to go away. Already anger rose like bile in his throat. If Roman didn’t leave soon, Logan would snap at him again, and he refused to hurt his best friend.</p><p>Roman’s face darkened with concern. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I—” Logan curled his shoulders inward. “I apologize for ruining your party. It was a kind gesture.”</p><p>“It’s alright, Lo.” Roman’s voice was soft again. “Nobody’s mad. We’re just worried about you. It was out-of-character for you to just run off like that. I just…” He sighed. “We want to know why you’re upset. Did we overstep a boundary? I know our dear Puffball can be a bit exuberant at times, and I know I’m also overwhelming in large quantities, so—”</p><p>“No!” Logan shook his head. “No, none of you did anything wrong. Please don’t—no.”</p><p>Roman still looked sheepish. Or was he concerned? Affectionate? Logan’s limited skills in parsing human emotions were almost nil due to the late hour and the stress of the previous incident. The ugliness climbed up his throat, ready to lash out, to strike at Roman who just wanted to help. Who hunted him down because he cared about him. Because he was worried.</p><p>Because they were friends.</p><p>Logan looked up at the sky, at the star that looked like it was alone, but it wasn’t.</p><p>“My parents finalized their divorce two weeks ago.”</p><p>Roman exhaled sharply. “I—didn’t know.”</p><p>“I didn’t tell anyone, so that makes sense.” Logan kept watching the star as he continued. It was easier to talk to the universe than Roman. “I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, and I do wholeheartedly believe my parents will be better off separated. However, I will miss my father, as he is moving to another state and will be less present in my life than before. I shall also miss…the possibility of convincing myself that their relationship could be repaired. Or that they would choose to attempt that.”</p><p>Logan pressed his lips together to stop the tears. “Due to the circumstances, I did not feel up for celebration, so I did not have a birthday party. It would have felt…odd…celebrating at such a time, especially when I find myself unable to enjoy the frivolities of such an experience.” Logan ran a hand over his face. “It doesn’t feel like my birthday at all.”</p><p>“And we sprung a party on you anyway,” Roman finished, eyes wide. “You must have felt so pressured—Lo, I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have—”</p><p>“It’s not your fault.” Logan scrubbed at his eyes, but the burning sensation didn’t recede. “I was not in a good position emotionally. I overreacted.”</p><p>“Still.” Roman sighed and gave Logan a half-smile. “Thanks for telling me. I appreciate it.”</p><p>“It was no trouble,” Logan said. “Actually…it feels rather relieving to talk about the situation.” Indeed, it was like a weight had been lifted from his stomach. The nauseating hurt was still there, but lesser, kept in check. Acknowledging it had somehow robbed it of its power.</p><p>“Talking to people helps. Who’d have thought.” Roman laughed and gently shoved Logan’s shoulder. “I’m always here to listen, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.” Logan took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Um…you can call Patton now.”</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“I—” Logan nodded. “Yes. I still don’t feel like a party, but we could watch a movie. It would be a shame to waste all those snacks.”</p><p>“What movie?” asked Roman.</p><p>“Big Hero Six, what else?” Logan bit his lip. “And…maybe Frozen? I know it’s your favorite. Think of it as…a thank you.”</p><p>Roman gave him a smile brighter than the Milky Way and dialed Patton’s number.</p><p>----o----</p><p>Logan was eighteen years old and under heavy assault from the devious creatures known as mosquitoes.</p><p>He wanted to single-handedly eviscerate every one of the nasty blood-sucking insects. He understood the natural balance all ecosystems maintained and the importance of every animal within it. But were mosquitoes <em>really</em> necessary? Did the environment <em>really</em> benefit from the presence of blood-thirsty vampiric six-legged suckers that attacked Logan’s exposed skin like the Catholic Church attacking the scientific notion that the Earth revolved around the Sun?</p><p>If mosquitoes hadn’t existed, the vacation might have been perfect. If blisters didn’t exist, it would definitely be perfect.</p><p>As things were, it was still the best vacation of Logan’s life.</p><p>They were all eighteen. Logan had graduated top of class. Janus was second. Roman and the others had just graduated.</p><p>Logan had gotten into his first choice college and planned to major in astronomy and minor in chemical engineering. Roman was headed to theatre school and Virgil had decided to take a gap year and go backpacking in Switzerland “’cause why not.” Patton was studying vet care at a community college, and Janus had somehow landed a spot on a prestigious abroad program. He vehemently denied all accusations of cheating, blackmail, or using connections with the “Intellectual Mafia I know there is one, stop laughing.” And Remus, to everyone’s surprise, turned out to have a stable income in freelance writing, art commissions, and a semi-popular YouTube channel. He had already bought an apartment and planned to work from home.</p><p>In a few short weeks, they would go their separate ways. So in addition to the annual beach trip, they organized an early-August camping expedition. Pitching a few tents on their campsite, they hiked and explored the surrounding terrain with no adult supervision.</p><p>“Technically, we’re all adults,” Logan pointed out.</p><p>“Mentally? No. Emotionally? Also no.”</p><p>“Janus, I swear to Brendan Urie I will feed you to the first bear we see.”</p><p>Fortunately for Janus, on the first day, they did not see a bear. They saw three caterpillars, one deceased, and a newt. They also discovered some strange spotted mushrooms that Logan dissuaded Remus from eating, and a large raccoon hole that Janus tried to push Virgil into, saying that “you belong with your kind.” Virgil got his revenge by shoving Janus into the lake near their campsite. That backfired, since the water turned out to be lovely and they all ended up wading.</p><p>That first night, they started a fire and lay around it, roasting marshmallows and exchanging ridiculous ghost stories. As the night wore on, the fire died, sparks spitting into the sky and embers fading. Nobody wanted to return to the tents yet, so Patton dragged out the sleeping bags and they lay outside. It was quiet, save for the humming of crickets, the rustling of leaves, and the occasional yelp when a mosquito struck.</p><p>Finally the fire was out. The last of the smoke curled into the sky.</p><p>Logan shifted on his pillow and watched the woods around him. The trees framed an open spot of sky above the clearing. As his eyes adjusted from the blinding glare of the fire, he saw them. And he was powerless to stop the huge smile that spread over his face.</p><p>Stars. More stars than he had ever witnessed. There was more space with stars than without them. They splashed across the sky, white and milky and glowing, a thick band clearly denoting the Milky Way. They looked almost like clouds, if Logan didn’t look closely, masses of bright pinpricks. It was impossible to focus on just one. The sky was full, huge, and deep.</p><p>Logan felt he was drowning in space, the ground falling away from him. He felt he might lift off and float into the vast sky until the stars were all he could see.</p><p>Logan carefully gripped a handful of grass. He didn’t want to float away. He would rather stay on Earth, with his friends and a dying campfire.</p><p>“Are you guys seeing this?” Roman whispered.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Yep!”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“Like I could miss it.”</p><p>“Logan?” Roman teased. “Did you die of shock?”</p><p>Logan tried to wrench himself from his bottomless state. All he could manage was a breathy, “Stars.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Roman laughed. “Bet you’re enjoying them more than all of us combined.”</p><p>Logan flushed. “I—I just find them fascinating.”</p><p>“Oh, you still like stars?” Patton asked. “I didn’t know.”</p><p>“Of course he does.” Janus' eye roll was audible. “It’s not like he’s an astronomy major or anything.”</p><p>“He’s got stars on his ceiling,” Remus added sleepily.</p><p>Logan flushed deeper. “I—I put those there when I was little!”</p><p>“They’re…like, correct down to the centimeter.”</p><p>“I appreciate scientific accuracy!”</p><p>“How do <em>you</em> know they’re correct?” Virgil asked suspiciously. “Come to think of it, how do you know he <em>has</em> stars on his ceiling?”</p><p>“Reasons.”</p><p>They fell silent. Remus began to snore loudly. Roman shifted around a few times and whispered “Logan?”</p><p>“Yes, Roman?”</p><p>Roman paused. “Tell a story.”</p><p>“A ghost story?”</p><p>“No, a star story.”</p><p>Logan bit his lip. “A star story?”</p><p>“What’s a star story?” Patton asked.</p><p>“Stories about constellations.” Roman chuckled. “Logan used to tell them all the time when we were younger. He was obsessed with them.”</p><p>Virgil snickered, and Logan’s face burned. He hadn’t told a constellation myth for years. Why would Roman bring them up now?</p><p>“Tell us a story!” Patton pleaded. “Lo, please, that sounds so cool!”</p><p>Logan frowned and rolled over so he was facing away from them. “I don’t tell those stories anymore, they’re too childish.”</p><p>“Childish?” Roman sputtered.</p><p>“Yes. Goodnight.”</p><p>“Specs,” Roman whispered.</p><p>Logan ignored him.</p><p>“Spock. Hugo Cabret. Be More Ill.”</p><p>Logan pulled his sleeping bag tighter around him. “Logan.” Roman sighed. “Please? I—I liked them. A lot.”</p><p>“Tell them yourself, then.”</p><p>“That’s not the same,” Roman protested. “You get all excited about it! And you pretend you’re not excited, but I can see you smiling, and it’s really sweet!”</p><p>Logan flipped Roman off.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Kiddo, watch your language,” Patton warned. “And Roman, if Lo doesn’t want to, you can’t make him.”</p><p>Roman huffed. “Fine. I’ll tell them myself. Whatever.”</p><p>“Go ahead, kiddo!”</p><p>“Alright.” Roman sighed. “So there’s this guy, right? His father is the sea god, Pluto, or whatever, and his mom is Medea.”</p><p>Logan clenched his jaw. He knew that <em>Roman</em> knew the actual myth. Roman was trying to bait him. Well, it wouldn’t work.</p><p>“And this guy’s name was Bellor-phon. He fought in the Trojan War as a kid but after he was kidnapped by a king, he got attacked by a manticore…”</p><p>Logan tried to cover his ears. Roman’s tone was lilting and teasing and itched at Logan’s cheeks.</p><p>“…So Hermes gave him a waterproof umbrella and some sweet shades, and he flew off to get the head of Cassiopeia—”</p><p>“Medusa,” Logan muttered.</p><p>“Hmm?” Roman’s voice oozed triumph. “What was that, Specs?”</p><p>Logan sighed and rolled back over. There was nothing for it now. “<em>Perseus</em> went to find the severed head of <em>Medusa</em>. Cassiopeia is the name of his mother-and-law.”</p><p>“Oh really?” Roman asked dramatically. “Well, shucks, I didn’t realize! Guess I’ll, I don’t know, need some <em>help</em> telling the story.”</p><p>“If you’re going to theater school,” Janus pointed out, “shouldn’t you be better at acting?”</p><p>Virgil snorted.</p><p>Roman, for once, ignored the slight. “Lo? Please? Tell the story? Please? They’re the best!”</p><p>“Fine,” Logan grumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.”</p><p>But despite himself, hearing Roman’s cheer as he settled in to tell the story, Logan smiled. It was alright. He was hidden by the darkness. Roman wouldn’t realize how much it meant to Logan to hear those compliments, to learn that Roman still remembered and liked his stories, years later.</p><p>“There was a woman, and her name was Medusa…”</p><p>----o----</p><p>Logan was eighteen and lost.</p><p>In fairness, Roman swore that they weren’t actually lost. But Logan had only his word for it, since the trail and surrounding woods were completely surrounded in night. Roman held the only flashlight, its beam lighting up desaturated corners of the landscape. Logan followed close behind, stumbling over roots and resisting the urge to grab Roman’s hand to make sure he wasn’t left behind.</p><p>“Only a little further!” Roman assured him for the third time.</p><p>Logan would have snapped back, but a stick cracked somewhere in the distance, and his voice died. He wished he hadn’t left his flashlight at the campsite. He wished he hadn’t let Roman take him hiking on the last night of the trip. Any animal, bird, beast or <em>bear</em> could be inches from Logan’s nose and he wouldn’t know. Logan shuddered and sped up until he was almost tripping over Roman’s heels.</p><p>“Almost there,” Roman said.</p><p>“Shh!”</p><p>“What, am I ruining the sanctity and serenity of the night hike?” Roman laughed. “I thought you were the one who said this was stupid.”</p><p>“I said it was illogical, and I stand by that.” Logan tripped over yet another root. “I do not understand why you insisted on this. Why not bring Remus or Janus? They seem more inclined to dangerous, pointless midnight hikes.”</p><p>“You’ll see,” Roman said in an infuriatingly sing-song voice. “And it’s not <em>dangerous.</em>”</p><p>“Lower your voice,” Logan hissed.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Bears.”</p><p>“If there <em>are</em> any bears, the guide said to make loud noises and scare them off.”</p><p>“I would much rather avoid all possible attention from things that might <em>eat us.</em>”</p><p>“You’re starting to sound like Virgil.” Roman steadied Logan as his foot slipped on a dip in the path. “No harm will come to you, Nerdy Wolverine. On my honor.”</p><p>Despite knowing that Roman couldn’t ensure such a promise, and that harm had already come to Logan in the form of several stubbed toes, Logan stayed silent. He was still unconvinced that bears were not lurking in the near vicinity.</p><p>But Roman did stay quiet after that, save for a few more “Almost there”s. Logan could hear the forest now, rustling and crackling. He could smell the rich earth and taste the languid humidity curling in the warm August air. He felt simultaneously marooned in a wild wood and stuck in a small space, accompanied by only his feet, Roman, and the flashlight bouncing merrily along. Logan tried to catch a glimpse of the stars, but the moment he took his eyes off the path, he almost stumbled into a ravine.</p><p>Then Roman’s flashlight illuminated something other than rocks and bushes. The path widened in front of them, sloping down to a grassy area. Beyond that was water, ink-black and glassy.</p><p>“The lake?” Logan asked.</p><p>“Yep!” Roman made some expansive gesture that Logan couldn’t see, which sent the flashlight beam careening wildly over the grass. “Welcome!”</p><p>“Why the lake?” Logan eyed it warily. “Are you going to drown me?”</p><p>“Of course not!” Roman exclaimed. “This is not a murder mission.”</p><p>“Come to think of it, you <em>did</em> lure me away from the group, at night, with no means of contacting them—”</p><p>“I’m not going to kill you,” Roman insisted. “You couldn’t help me with my homework if you died.”</p><p>“Roman, we’re going to different colleges.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“Roman, you’re studying <em>acting.</em>”</p><p>“They have a language requirement! I have to take a Spanish course and I <em>will</em> be asking for verb conjugations at three in the morning.”</p><p>“Roman, you’ve spoken Spanish since age four.”</p><p>“I’m still gonna.” Roman’s voice softened. “’Cause I want an excuse to text you.”</p><p>Logan smiled. “You could have just asked. You don’t have to think of an excuse.”</p><p>Logan couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Roman smile back.</p><p>“So what are we doing here?” Logan finally asked. “It’s a lovely view, though granted, I can barely see any of it.”</p><p>What he could see was the texture. There was no color, no light, but the different strokes of black betrayed the outline of the lake. Scrubby, slapdash shadows for the trees, smooth watercolors formed the lake, but the sky was one massive stroke with no variations. Logan could spot a few stars, but the flashlight blocked him from seeing any more.</p><p>“Why, haven’t you figured it out?” Roman stuck his flashlight under his chin, forming craggy shadows around his eyes and nose. “We’re here to investigate the legendary, fearsome lake monster! Several years ago, a young boy disappeared in the lake on this date exactly—”</p><p>Logan just stared at him. Roman sighed and dropped the act and the flashlight, sending the beam skittering across the lake. “You’re no fun. Take off your shoes.”</p><p>Logan spluttered. “<em>What?</em> Why?”</p><p>Roman pulled off his own shoes and tossed them on the grass. “You don’t want them to get wet, do you?”</p><p>“Get <em>wet?</em>” Logan repeated. “What in the name of Aristotle are we <em>doing?</em>”</p><p>“We’re wading,” said Roman as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.</p><p>“In the <em>lake?</em>”</p><p>“Well, what else would we be wading in?”</p><p>Logan felt he had missed some crucial information that would help this conversation make an iota of sense. “And why, exactly, are we going <em>wading</em> at midnight?”</p><p>Roman looked into his eyes. “Do you trust me?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Do you trust me?”</p><p>“No, not in the slightest!”</p><p>“Well then.” Roman shrugged. “Too bad, ‘cause you’re gonna have to.”</p><p>Logan folded his arms.</p><p>“We’re not leaving until you take off your shoes.” Roman folded his arms too. “Let’s go.”</p><p>“I could leave without you,” Logan suggested.</p><p>Roman pointed to the flashlight in his hand. “No, you couldn’t. Shoes off.”</p><p>Sighing loudly, Logan untied his shoes and took off his socks. The grass was soft under his feet, blades tickling between his toes.</p><p>“Come on!” Roman grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the lake. Logan stumbled after him. The water hit his ankles, cold and clear. Mud squelched beneath his feet as they came to a stop roughly two feet from the shore.</p><p>Roman turned the flashlight off. “Look at me.”</p><p>Logan did.</p><p>Roman was barely visible, but as his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the sweep of Roman’s hair and the arch of his nose. His mouth was set in a fond, teasing, expectant grin.</p><p>“Don’t move, Logan.”</p><p>Logan didn’t.</p><p>They were still holding hands. Logan’s feet were cold, but his cheeks and hand and chest were on fire.</p><p>“Now.” Roman smiled wider. “Look up.”</p><p>Logan did.</p><p>It was the stars again. They exploded into sight, bursting through the sky, dipping in waves to scrape against the tallest trees before soaring up in clusters and bands and constellations. They seemed to cover more area than the sky, bleeding into the surrounding forest and the lake.</p><p>As the water stilled, Logan realized why.</p><p>He could see the stars’ reflections.</p><p>A mirror image of the stars filled the lake, pinpoints strewn about. Only a few small ripples disturbed the surface, so Logan could pick out constellations. Then he looked at the sky again and there were <em>more</em> stars, new ones glimmering into view every second, and they couldn’t all reach the lake but the ones that did surrounded him, water full of stardust, lapping at his legs, gently splashing the shore.</p><p>In the distance the lake and sky met, stars touching stars, with no join line. One bled into another, a continuation of the same universe.</p><p>“You’re going to be an astronomer,” Roman whispered next to him. “You’re going to see the stars for yourself one day. Send probes up there and look around and see them. But that’ll take a while, and I thought for now, you could settle for this.” Roman squeezed Logan’s hand. “I remember you wanted to touch the stars, when you were little. You wanted to—”</p><p>“—to have them surround me,” Logan finished, voice weak with awe. “You did that. You made that happen.”</p><p>“So…” Hesitance crept into Roman’s voice. “You like it?”</p><p>Logan turned to face him, even though his eyes were wide and glassy and he was beaming. “Roman,” he breathed. “I can touch them. They’re everywhere, Ro.”</p><p>“Yeah, Specs.” Roman smiled. “Yeah.”</p><p>Logan reached down and skimmed the water with his hands. The stars wavered beneath his palms, but he could <em>touch</em> them.</p><p>So that’s what they felt like. Cold water and silvery droplets and the space between the lake and the sky. Cold and clear and crisp. He could feel them. He could touch them. They surrounded him on all sides, a river. He swam in stars.</p><p>“I—”</p><p>Logan straightened, leaned forward, and hugged Roman as tightly as he could. Roman froze with surprise but soon hugged him back. Logan’s vision blurred and he realized tears were slipping down his face and splashing into the lake to join the stars.</p><p>“I’ll miss you,” Logan choked out. He’d wanted to say ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Thank you’ or a million other things. But from the way Roman squeezed him tighter, he knew Roman understood.</p><p>“I’m not that far away,” Roman promised. “I’ll see the same stars and everything.”</p><p>Logan smiled, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder, watching the stars spin. “Roman—thank you.”</p><p>“Thank <em>you</em>,” Roman countered.</p><p>“I’m sorry for—” Logan sighed softly. “All the arguing.”</p><p>“I’m sorry too.” Roman chuckled. “Though it was pretty fun.”</p><p>“It was.” Logan closed his eyes. “I—I love you,” he finally managed to say.</p><p>“Oh,” Roman said softly.</p><p>“Was that okay?” Logan flushed. “I apologize if I misread the situation—”</p><p>“No, no.” Roman brushed Logan’s hair off his forehead. “I love you too, Specs.”</p><p>“Oh.” Logan somehow smiled wider. “Good.”</p><p>“Fantastic.”</p><p>They stood there for a long time, arms wrapped around each other, their warmth countering the chill of the lake, tasting every inch of the moment and enjoying every last drop of stardust. Tomorrow they would drive back home in a station wagon filled with their best friends, and have to part ways. In a month they would be in their own colleges, with new roommates and new classes and new lives. They would text. They would call. They would send each other pictures at three in the morning, hair mussed and smiling. And when Logan felt lonely, he would look at the sky.</p><p>Roman wasn’t a planet, he’d figured out. He was a star. He had to be.</p><p>And Logan knew some stars came in pairs. They circled around each other at the center of their system, weaving in and out, keeping the other in place. Some were so close they appeared to be one star in the night sky. But they didn’t crash into each other, didn’t burn out, didn’t move away. They stayed in their own perfect rhythm.</p><p>They had different orbits, but they were in the same system. The same galaxy. They danced together in the universe. They stood together in a lake in the mountains on a small planet called Earth.</p><p>Above and around them, the stars shone on.</p>
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